Hallowed
by NotHardlyCharlotte
Summary: While the collar fit snugly around his throat, and while his robes were a warm ever-present weight, he wasn't really a priest right now. Just a friend.


I have a metric ton of oneshots floating around in my little mind at the moment, and this is just one of them. I do very much love John, and I've always loved the idea of him sneaking his own prayers in between the strict dogma of Catholicism.

Alright!

 **Warnings:** I'm not sure this is applicable, since we're peaking into the head of a Catholic priest. So...differing religious views maybe? If Christianity offends you? Just be prepared for the righteousness.

Spoilers (duh): if you haven't read the end of the manga, this might be a bit confusing.

Disclaimer: I really, really wish I did. Because these characters are perfection. But alas, I am a poor plebe sharing my interpretation.

Quick Note: This takes place about a month after the end of the manga, and I suppose you could consider this part of my Nature Boy-verse, but it doesn't particularly matter. Also, while I attend a Roman Catholic church occasionally with my grandmother, I am not religious by any means, nor am I a priest, so please forgive any glaring mistakes in mentions to doctrine. I did some research, but I tried to be vague enough that it wouldn't matter. So on that note, enjoy!

* * *

The rosary was worn smooth between his fingers, as bead by bead, each link in the chain, he chanted his prayers in a hushed whisper. It was late, probably later than one would expect to find a priest kneeling before the cross, but John had always believed his faith to be better served at night.

After all, he and his friends knew very well what the night could bring.

"Oh my Jesus, have mercy on us." John tucked the final beads closely to his palm. "Forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of hell. Take all souls into Heaven, especially, those most in need of Thy mercy." His mind shuffled through, like it always seemed to, each wayward soul he'd encountered. Familiar faces, too familiar, and those strangers whom he had never seen happy, only twisted by anger and time too long away from home. He found himself lingering on one in particular, a face he'd never really seen but he still knew it plainly. _Rest in peace, Eugene._ "Amen."

One final prayer to the Holy Queen, and he passed his hand before him in that infinitely comforting pattern. Father Toujo was no doubt already asleep, along with the children, and John felt the soothing exhaustion of the day press behind his eyes. He should join their dreaming.

But he stayed on his knees.

 _Our Father, who art in Heaven, hear my prayer. May Your truth and love guide my dear friends through their trials and their joy. May they know Your love and mine, and may they always be protected by Your light._

These prayers were always silent, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe they were only for him, a prayer for his friends' happiness so he could continue his own. But then it didn't feel as selfish as that. Or maybe more selfish than that. He could never really tell. All he was certain of was that while the collar fit snugly around his throat, and while his robes were a warm ever-present weight, he wasn't really a priest right now. Just a friend, asking God to keep his loved ones safe and happy.

 _May Housho find success in his music._ He thought of the last time he'd seen the apostate monk and smiled despite himself. That had been quite the… _colorful_ argument with Ayako, and about something so trivial—which he couldn't remember for the life of him _what_ they were squabbling about—no less. Even poor Mai had had difficulty breaking them up. _And may he learn to direct his ease at expressing his…_ distaste… _into expressing his love first._ John felt a small blush creep to his cheeks. He wondered if anyone else had noted the true nature of their fighting, though admittedly, aside from the pair themselves, he was probably the last. Love was such a fickle being between humans.

 _May Ayako save many lives, and help to comfort those close to Your keeping._ Though she could be somewhat shallow on the surface, John was unfailingly impressed by her compassion. Housho was no different really. _May she more easily see the similarities in people before the differences._ John chuckled to himself as his mind turned, unbidden, to their 'date' that seemed so long ago. He resisted tacking on a hope that her skills with a flying disk improved.

 _May Masako find happiness in herself and the beautiful work she does._ For all her fame and talent, she had always seemed a little sad in his mind. Or perhaps a little lost, but then she was young and that was to be expected. Even so, he prayed every night that the next time he would see her, maybe her smile would be genuine. _May she learn to love freely, without conditions and scorn._ He truly hoped she would see the way they cared for her despite the exploitative love she'd known from her childhood.

 _May Yasuhara excel in his studies and may he find success in his future, whatever path he may choose._ Of all his friends, John was most baffled by their part-time researcher. He seemed steadfast in his principles, secure in himself the way John imagine most teenagers—including himself—wished to feel. And for all his antagonism, he was a true, reliable friend, especially to Mai. He could only pray that he maintain his confidence and self-assurance, while keeping his mischief innocent. And perhaps that he think more carefully about his more hedonistic habits.

 _May Miss Mori carry our team as a mentor and leader while our friend is away. May she keep us together with her lovely spirit._ He didn't know her very well yet, but in the time she'd spent with them he'd found her amicable and extremely capable as their leader. She was quirky too, and he rather liked her special brand of saccharine brow-beating. It reminded him of his old parish Father.

 _May Lin continue to be a mentor and a friend to all of us, especially Kaz—Oliver. May he accept our love with no prejudice, and may he continue to use his extraordinary gifts for the protection of others._ Taciturn though he may appear, John had found almost a kindred soul in Lin. He admired his selflessness, and in truth, he looked up to him for his deeply rooted sense of spirituality. Lin was almost a force of nature, and yet he never once claimed any indulgent pride over it. His power was a work of God, despite their very different paths to Heaven.

As he adjusted his weight on his numbing legs, John turned his mind over his remaining companions. Every night he saved them for last, not simply because he felt that they were most in need of support, but also because their natures were ones to refuse this kind of consideration. As if it were wasted on them, either for selflessness or for fear of being cared for, he didn't know. Only that he loved them both for bearing their crosses, and he would always shoulder the burden with them, even if they didn't know he was there.

 _May funny little Mai continue to grow in her strength and compassion, and may she always be safe with You and with her friends who love her so much. May her parents rest in Your care._ He had a particular spot in his heart for Mai, and maybe one day he'd tell her that. She was, in her own right, a force to be reckoned with. Incredibly compassionate, self-sacrificing, honest to a fault and so wonderfully and recklessly brave that half the time he was tempted to glue a rosary to her forehead if it would keep her safe. A little naïve as well, in a way that was too steadfastly hopeful to be negative. He could see why spirits flocked to her. She was pure despite her suffering, or maybe because of it, and she loved so fiercely. She was a light, simply put, though a light with an occasionally frightening temper. He imagined his little sister would have been much like her. _May she learn to seek help, from You or from her new family, in times of strife. May she learn that she isn't alone, that she never was, and that we will all walk beside her for as long as she'll have us._

John took a moment to breathe deeply, to let the warmth in his chest spread outward to his fingertips and toes and into the rosary dangling from his grip. These words he'd said every night for the last month, and they rolled across his thoughts with no less hope and gratitude than they had the first day. He willed his final prayer to travel a few thousand miles, across infinite countries and peoples and paths to God, so that maybe, though he wouldn't hear it, maybe his friend would feel it. Maybe he would accept it.

 _May Oliver, my dear friend so far away, find peace._ _May his heart heal from such a great loss, by Your love and the love freely given by his friends. Let him know that we will always walk with him, that he is cherished for his whole self, that even distance cannot cut the ties that we have made together. May he find the life and happiness that he has been so long searching for, and may he realize, finally, that he is kind, and that he is good, and that he is our friend._

John rose to his feet and felt the weight of his petitions on his shoulders. This was his nightly ritual, beyond his benedictions and his rosary prayer. He'd never known friends before the clergy, but he loved them so dearly now that he did. And though it might have been selfish, or indulgent, or maybe even prideful, he'd carry the burden of his own hope for them, because they were God's greatest gift to him. He would forever be grateful.

 _By Your Grace and Glory, amen._

* * *

Just as a note, I totally made up the end of his prayer. I don't think it's official, but I consider it John's personal stamp on his personal prayers.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this look into John's nightly musings, and be prepared for more looks into the supporting characters' minds in the future. They don't get enough love. As per usual, if you find any egregious mistakes, please let me know and if it warrants messing with your head with a not-really-an-update edit, I will gladly fix it.

On a personal note, this story was meant to explore a major aspect of John's personality in my book (loving his friends), and I simply chose his religion as the theatre for that exploration. I do not mean to push any one perspective on spirituality. As I believe John feels, there are a million paths to understanding the world, whether you name a god, many, or none.

Thank you for reading!

-NHC


End file.
